


Lost & Found

by CuriosityRedux



Series: Dragon Drabbles Berk [40]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hiccstrid - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-30 03:22:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16756711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriosityRedux/pseuds/CuriosityRedux
Summary: Hiccup accidentally breaks a promise.





	1. Lost

**Lost**

-

“Wait, can you just tell me why we’re arguing?” Hiccup tried to reach for his girlfriend’s arm as she moved from one dragon pen to the next, but Astrid jerked her elbow away from his hand.

“We’re not arguing,” she answered crisply, still not looking at him. She’d only glanced at him when he and Toothless landed, and the moment he’d breathlessly dismounted and jogged towards her, she’d turned on her heel and walked away.

He scoffed and followed after her while she scattered chunks of fish into the hatchlings’ pens. “Really? Because there’s some very argumentative body language going on right now.”

“Arguing implies there’s a disagreement to be had. A difference of opinions.” She reached down to give one of Stormfly’s babies a pat on the head before moving on to the next fenced off cave. “We’re not arguing.”

“Are we arguing about arguing?" 

He was met with a frosty silence. He let his arms fall to his side and watched her work in perplexed frustration. Even in grungy work clothes and gloves, she looked beautiful. Maybe the smell of fish should have been off-putting, but he’d spent too much time around dragons for it to bother him. He had been excited to see her, wanted to pull her into the shadows and tell her about the progress he’d made with his flight suit before putting his mouth to better use. But she was a cold wall of ice. She all but threw her empty bucket by the rest of the stable supplies.

"Astrid, did I do something?” He reached for her again before she could brush past him, and this time she didn’t shake him off. 

Blue eyes cut to him, her gaze sharper than a knife. “No, Hiccup. You didn’t. You didn’t do something.”

Furrowing his brows, he shook his head. His thoughts snagged on her last sentence— that he didn’t do  _something_ , not  _anything_. He opened his mouth to press again, but she cut him off.

“How did things go with my dad?” she asked coolly. And all at once, everything slid into place.

Something heavier than a boulder sank in his gut. His hand froze on her upper arm, and guilt crashed down on him. “I… I forgot,” he murmured, but she already knew.

Astrid nodded, flipping her bangs out of her eyes. Licking her lips, she gave him a smile that made his stomach churn. “But please. Tell me about your afternoon with Toothless.”

With that, she pulled free and all but shoved him out of her way. Hiccup tried to catch his breath, cringing and shoving his fingers through his hair. The contract. They were supposed to talk about the contract today. He’d promised her it would be today, that he wouldn’t put it off any longer. Thor dammit, he’d  _promised_. Her shoulders were straight and tense as she walked towards the exit. 

“Astrid,” he groaned, ready to apologize. 

But she stopped. When she looked back at him, her face was wet. “I get it, Hiccup. You don’t want to get married.” 

“I do!” he insisted, taking a step forward.

She made a vague gesture towards the village— towards her house and her father. “If it was important to you, you would’ve been there.” Her voice broke before she could finish, and Hiccup curled his hands into fists, helpless. “If  _I_ was important to you, you would’ve been there.”

“You are,” he said, but it sounded weak even to his own ears.

Shaking her head, she turned back and walked away. “Words.”


	2. And Found

**And Found**

**-**

“Oh, for the love of Freya, one of yeh open the door.” Astrid’s mother sighed and gave her withering glance over the dinner table. “That’s the third day in a row he’s come.”

“I don’t live here anymore,” she muttered under her breath, stabbing at her plate and missing the food each time. The clink of her fork’s tines against the dish was like a tiny echo of the pounding coming from the front house. 

_Bang, bang, bang!_

“Mr. Hofferson? Calder? I know you can hear me, please!”

_Clink. Clink. Clink._

A heavy, awkward silence hung above the table. Next to her, Astrid’s father cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. His gaze was focused on his meal, just as she was focused on hers. He was her one ally in this, her one grudging, uncomfortable shield. Unlike her uncle, her dad was a man of few words. He didn’t make excuses for Hiccup, but neither did her criticize him— and when she asked him to send her boyfriend away, he did so without questions. 

The muffled sound of Hiccup’s swears cut through the door, and for a second it was quiet. But then he was knocking again. A little frantic this time. “Mr. Hofferson, please open up! I want to talk about the contract!”

Her mother made a disapproving little huff, shaking her head at her daughter. Still, she didn’t move to put an end to his suffering either. It was an unexpected display of support. 

_Bangbangbang._

_Clink. Clink. Scree—!_

Astrid flinched when her fork scraped the bottom of her plate, dropping the utensil with more force than necessary. “Dad?” she said evenly. 

Her father didn’t so much as look at her. He took a swig of his mead, wiped his mouth against his sleeve, and stood, disappearing from the room. After the sound of his heavy footfalls, she heard the creak of the front door and Hiccup’s surprised stammering. 

“Mr. Hofferson! Hi. Yes. Thank you.” His out-of-breath greeting made her chest squeeze tightly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner, but I  _have_ to—”

“My daughter doesn’t want to marry you.” Her father’s deep voice cut through Hiccup’s own tenor. There was a beat of silence, and then, “I’m sorry, son. Go home.”

Astrid wet her lips, nibbling at the corner of her mouth and flicking her gaze towards the ceiling. She would  _not_  cry. Not again. She exhaled slowly and listened to the sound of the door click shut once more. 

There was no more banging. 

It was probably petty. And pathetic, avoiding all of his pleading attempts to make things right. But the wound was still so sore, the bruise of her heart still so raw to the touch. It was hard to look at him, much less hear his apology. The only thing that had improved was that her bitterness made her a little stronger. Her anger made it hurt less. 

“I’m sneaking out the window,” she announced, pushing away from the table and standing. “Leave the dishes for me. I’ll do them when I get back.”

Her parents didn’t argue. Her mother told her to be careful and her father dragged her plate closer to finish off her food. 

It was a chilly night, so she slipped her fur hood over her head before unlatching the back window and slipping out. If Hiccup was still waiting out front, she didn’t want to run into him, or even catch him around the village. She was going to track down Stormfly and go find an island where she could have some peace and quiet. Or at least some peace. She’d had plenty of quiet lately. 

The evening smelled crisp and dry, like autumn. Pine straw crunched beneath her feet as she made her way up to the dragon stables, releasing a dusty, sappy aroma. Astrid adjusted the cords around her arm wraps and stared ahead as she walked. She thought about that heartbeat between her father’s words, wondered if her boyfriend’s face had dropped at her rejection. 

 _She_  didn’t get that luxury. A quick, clean disappointment. Instead, she’d waited with giddy excitement, watching for Hiccup on the horizon while she worked on her afternoon chores. Then that faded to nervous apprehension when she returned home and realized he  _hadn’t_  slipped past her. He just hadn’t arrived. The more she paced, the angrier she got. She couldn’t stand the way her father snuck glances at her while he waited and played cards. A little like pity. A little like curiosity. And then once the sun started lowering close to the ocean, she finally gave up. Told her father to forget about it, he wasn’t coming. She ignored the knife in her throat and went to feed the dragons. 

It was an unusual breech of trust. Almost like free-falling— she could always depend on Hiccup to grab her before she hit the ground. But this time she realized too late that the earth was rising up to meet her, and her boyfriend was nowhere to be found. 

It was an odd thought to have right before she heard beating wings and felt two sets of claws snatch her off her feet. 

“Sorry!” she heard Hiccup shout over the sound of the wind in her ears and her own startled scream. Glaring up at a rider she couldn’t see, she struggled against the paws that held her, even as she dangled hundreds of feet off the ground. 

“Hiccup!” she shrieked, furious. “Are you out of your Thor-damned mind?!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t want to have to do this!”

Toothless warbled a smiley hello at her, and she shook her head at the traitorous Night Fury. “Put me down! Now!”

They angled lower, no jokes and no arguing. Astrid thought he would set her down on solid ground, thought she’d have a chance to shove him right out of his saddle. But instead, Toothless dropped her onto a high tree branch and settled onto the bowing trunk. 

“Are you  _serious_!” The bark dug into her fingers as she hung on for dear life. She could see Hiccup now, expression uncertain as he twisted and leaned to look at her. “Get me  _down_ from here!”

“Do you remember?” he asked her, gripping the horn of his saddle. His features were hard to see clearly in the dark, but they were high enough that the moon could cast an unfiltered glow against his profile. 

“Remember what?” she growled, kicking for a lower branch so she could ease herself closer to the center and climb down. 

“Your first flight.”

Oh. She stopped kicking. 

He  _had_  thrown her in a tree that time too. Glancing at her surroundings, she wondered if this was the same one. It was so long ago, and she’d been so terrified. She couldn’t be sure. 

He must’ve understood her silence as her answer. As if they were fourteen all over again, he begged, “Let me explain.”

The reminder of their beginnings felt like a blow to her stomach. She swallowed down a pathetic whimper and adjusted her grip on the branch, looking down at the long drop below. A canopy of branches spiderwebbed the whole way down, the ground so far beneath them it was black. This time, she knew, he wouldn’t leave her up there. It wasn’t as scary, but twice as overwhelming.

“I’m not listening to anything you have to say,” she answered, though it was a much weaker rendition of her original line. Astrid hoped her voice didn’t sound as wobbly to him as it did to her. 

“Then I won’t say anything.” Locking Toothless’ tailfin in place, Hiccup unhooked his prosthesis so he could reach down for her hand. “Let me show you.”

This was supposed to be the part where she climbed up on her own and threw her leg over the dragon’s back. Even the Night Fury was watching her expectantly. But she shook her head. “No.”

His face twisted a little, pained, but he only extended his arm further. “I know I hurt you. I broke my promise, and I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.”

“It’s been four years,” she swallowed, feeling the tingling burn of strain in her upper body. Dust and dirt made it difficult to keep a good hold on the branch from which she dangled. “I’ve been on a dragon’s back too many times for a romantic flight through the clouds to fix this.”

He laughed a little, but it was uneasy and insincere. “I wouldn’t try the same move twice,” he told her, reaching. “You’re too smart for that.” His fingertips brushed across her knuckles, and she grunted with the effort it took to slap his hand away. Her branch bounced and creaked under her weight.

Toothless made a grumbled noise of confusion, likely perplexed by what might seem like a very strange human courting ritual. He sniffed at her, tilting his head towards Hiccup as if telling her to accept the help. 

“Don’t make me get off this dragon,” Hiccup whispered, his teasing tone ruined by the thread of anxiety running through his words. He stuck his hand out again, jaw tight and gaze pleading. 

She didn’t answer. Her arms were weakening the longer she hung there, but she felt her chin dimple with the effort it took to bite back hot tears. “I don’t want to listen,” she sniffed, staring into the dark below instead of meeting his eyes. “That’s the thing, Hiccup, it’s always talk. I’m tired of listening to  _talk_. I can’t keep flying after you while you keep moving farther and farther.” 

“Is this about the map?” he asked. 

“It’s about us!” she exclaimed. “I’m always the one waiting, following, chasing…  Asking for more, trying to be patient. I feel like I’ve been hanging on this branch for the past two  _years_ , waiting for you to come help me down! My arms are tired!”

And they were. They trembled while numb and frozen fingers clenched around pinching bark. As much as she hated it, she’d have to accept his help soon or she’d slip. The worst part was, while holding on for dear life, she couldn’t wipe away the wet streaks that were escaping down her cheeks. 

Hiccup started to say several things but never finished one of them. Finally, he snapped his mouth shut and set his jaw with determination. Swinging his leg over the saddle, he moved his leash’s hook from the horn to the stirrup and carefully crawled onto the tree’s trunk. It made her nervous— one wrong step and it would snap, sending him and Toothless crashing down. But he exhaled slowly and evenly and climbed down until he could balance on his knees. For the hundredth time, he reached for her.

Astrid cried and shook her head. 

“Stubborn—!” Hiccup’s warm hands clamped down on her wrists and  _jerked._  A startled shriek escaped as she felt him tugging her upwards. Hiccup was stronger than he used to be, but he was still just one man and he was still sitting in a rickety tree. She whimpered, clawing for his shirt as he grunted and pulled her through the air towards himself. 

“You’re gonna get us both killed!” she breathed a little hysterically into his neck. She used the last bit of her strength to climb up his body and onto the branch next to him. But despite the sharpness in her words, she pulled him tight and hung onto him with red, scraped hands. Toothless gurgled and shifted, making the tree sway.

“I’ve got you and he’s got me,” Hiccup panted into her hair. He shifted so that he was straddling the branch, so that she could rest against him. Then pulling back, he tilted her face towards him and used his palms to wipe her cheeks. “Were you really going to hang there until you fell?”

She glared but turned into his hand so she could feel the warmth of him against her cold skin. “Now you know how it feels to wait.”

Hiccup swore, shaking his head and blinking up at the night sky. Then he looked back to her and reached into the chest pocket of his flight suit. At first she thought he was reaching for his map— maybe he’d chuck the pages in some Hiccup-esque, overdramatic apology. But the item he pulled out was much smaller.  _Items._

“No more waiting,” he murmured, lifting the two rings toward the light so she could see. “No more talk.”

If she was already having trouble catching her breath, now it was nearly impossible. She’d stared at her mother’s own golden wedding ring in envy ever since she started having thoughts about marriage. As of late, she was beginning to wonder if she’d ever have one of her own. 

“It is completely possible that yours doesn’t fit,” he began to ramble, a new embarrassment coloring his voice. “I make weapons and cookware and construction pieces, not jewelry. But I can shrink it or stretch it if you need me to. Or if you just completely hate it, I can buy something from Trader Johan, I’m sure he—”

“You made our wedding rings,” she breathed, lifting a finger to inspect but too afraid to actually touch them.

He paused, eyes flicking back to her face. “Yeah. I thought waiting for the wedding might be a little easier if you had, y’know— proof that it was happening.” He took her scraped, raw hand and unfolded it flat so he could place the rings in her palm. “I won’t wear mine til then, but yours’ll be in the contract. You can have it tonight. That is, if you let me talk to your dad.”

The two tiny circlets of gold felt inexplicably heavy. The most expensive thing she’d ever come close to calling hers, and she held it in a shaking hand hundreds of feet above the ground. They gleamed in the moonlight, and she turned the smaller of the two rings to inspect the tiny engravings. It must have taken him hours.

Hiccup’s hands slid around hers, drawing her attention back to his face. He was watching her with nervous patience. “So?” he said. “Will you let me marry you?”

She let her fingers close protectively over the rings. “Tonight. You’ll do it tonight?”

“As soon as we get off this gods-forsaken tree,” he swore. Leaning back, he gestured towards Toothless. “Let me show you.”


End file.
